In So Many Words
by makesometime
Summary: One sentence fics/ficlets inspired by one word featuring; Taylor/Wash, Skye/Carter, Taylor/Wash/Taylor, Jim/Wash, Mark/Maddy, Jim/Elizabeth.
1. Sentence Fics

**A/N:** We've been having a little thing over at tumblr recently where you get a pairing and a word and have to write a one sentence fic based upon them. I thought I would compile them for my reference here, I hope you guys enjoy.

Pairings are as follows:

Taylor/Wash  
>SkyeCarter  
>Nathaniel TaylorWash/Miles Taylor - my AU OT3 from 'Taylor Made'  
>JimWash (friendship)  
>MarkMaddy  
>JimElizabeth.

(None are rated higher than T, though some push it. If anyone thinks I've rated wrong please let me know!)

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><p><strong>TaylorWash – Date**

_This time we'll do it right_ he'd said - she'd laughed at the time (when did they _ever_?) and knew now she knew she was right to as his hungry gaze swept over her dress-clad form and he stalked towards her, pushing her back through into her quarters and kicking the door shut behind him.

**Skye/Carter – Drink**

She watches with appreciation as he bends to fill their canteens (feeling herself flush with a heat that has nothing to do with being in the middle of the jungle) but when he leans forward to scoop some of the water directly into his mouth she can't resist and rushes forward, shoving hard against his back to make him fall face-first into the river.

**Skye/Carter – Milk**

"You've got a little…" She trails off, brushing her thumb over his moustache to wipe away the milk they'd been drinking from the 85 million year old relative of the coconut - he swipes his tongue out to catch her digit and she laughs, smacking his chest, "You need to shave."

**Miles Taylor/Wash + Nathaniel Taylor – Surrender**

She keeps telling herself that she doesn't want this, that she's a damn fool for even considering it when what she has with Nathaniel is so perfect, but when Miles reaches for her hand and tugs her inside his quarters she doesn't resist; she has to accept now that she'll never resist the Taylor men.

**Taylor/Wash – Light**

He hoists her over his shoulder with a laugh, amused as ever that a woman with so much strength in her can be so easy to lift into the air; later, when her fingers are combing through his head as it lays on her stomach and she makes a careless comment about how he won't be able to lift her so easily much longer it takes a minute to sink in just what she means.

**Taylor/Wash – Rover**

Jim finds the rover more easily than he expected given the amount of time the Commander and his Lieutenant have been out of contact; he rounds the empty vehicle and is about to call out for them when he sees the pile of hastily abandoned clothing leading down to the water's edge and he sprints back to his own rover, getting the hell outta dodge before he can see or hear something he doesn't ever want to.

**Taylor/Wash – Dark**

When he walks through the front door of his darkened quarters he can sense her immediately, her presence calling to him like a beacon through the gloom and he doesn't bother with lights as he walks to the bedroom to find her resting (not yet sleeping, she won't let herself until he's home), only strips and curls up behind her, arms tight around her waist as they fall asleep together.

**Taylor/Wash – Spying**

She feels him retract from her as he reaches for her hand (the one currently teasing through the hair on the back of his head), looks up at him in confusion and sees him incline his head somewhere behind her; she turns to see Zoe Shannon peeking around the door of his office and licks her swollen lips self-consciously, mind desperately searching for a way of explaining the fact that she's not wearing a shirt.

**Wash/Jim – Barfight**

In hindsight, when Wash claimed to have started a fight in an pub in Dublin, Jim probably should have responded with more than a scoffed laugh and realised that reacting in such a way was like a red rag to a bull (in his defence, he was pretty hammered) - when he receives a call two weeks later from an amused Boylan reporting violence on his premises and turns up to find Wash standing triumphantly amidst bleeding and bruised and groaning bar patrons he thinks that, actually, this sight was worth the extra duty shifts she assigned him as punishment.

**Maddy/Mark – Dance**

He loses count of the number of times he informs his fiancée that Terra Novan traditions aren't quite the same as the ones she's so familiar with but in the end it really doesn't matter anyway - Maddy gets her way (as usual) and as they share their first dance as husband and wife in front of the majority of the colony, he knows she's responsible for once more changing the past/present/future for the better.

**Nathaniel Taylor/Wash + Miles Taylor – Watching**

He stands in the shadows in his brother's office as the man himself pushes Wash up against the conference table (he chuckles to himself as she pushes back, adores her fire) and watches as clothing flies here, there and everywhere; they look like a damn work of art as they move together and at his brother's first thrust Wash turns her head, eyes locking on to his own as she smirks, thoughts obvious - _Don't you dare go anywhere_.

**Taylor/Wash – Alpha**

He's been in command so long that he's become comfortable with being top dog, number one, the alpha male of Terra Nova and the one whose word is law - perhaps too comfortable - but, he thinks, as he runs his hands up Wash's toned stomach while she moves over him, there's one place he will never, ever, be able to claim such a title.

**Taylor/Wash – Shiver**

During boring meetings (usually when Malcolm is wittering on) Taylor often toys with abusing his power and sending Wash's datapad messages full of obscene suggestions for things they could be doing instead but he doesn't quite dare - it's during one such meeting that his own datapad beeps and he opens the messaging program to find a picture of her that's the very definition of For Your Eyes Only; he sends a one word reply, _'Later_.' and is delighted when her eyelids flutter and she shivers in response.

**Jim/Elisabeth – Stars**

"My God, Jim. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?" Elisabeth asks, tearing her eyes from the sky to look at her husband's face to find him already looking down at her, the adoration in his eyes easily illuminated by the moonlight; "Yes." He whispers and though she scoffs and smacks his chest playfully, her heart sings.

**Wash/Taylor – Proposal**

"Marry me." He says and perhaps it's not the most... tactful of times to ask but she looks so beautiful with her eyes shining in the moonlight and her lips still glistening that the words leave his mouth before he can stop them; the moment's pause until she nods, stunned, is the longest of his damn life.

**Nathaniel Taylor/Wash/Miles Taylor – Decision**

They confront her in Nathaniel's office and demand she choose, unconsciously mirroring each other's crossed-arm mixture of impatience and concern - they're so damn alike that the word "Both." slips out of her mouth before she can help it; when they share a raised eyebrow and a shrug before advancing on her she thinks she's dreaming and has _never_ been happier to be wrong.

**Jim/Elisabeth – Tree**

It takes three weeks for Jim to _finally_ swing a rover to take Elisabeth OTG for the day, though this time it's him patching her up afterwards; she doesn't forgive him for pinning her to that damn tree for a few days but it was _so_ worth it.


	2. Sentence Fics: Redux

**A/N: **All of these were prompted by **Inu-midoriko**, **skykisse****dwindknight **and **gf7** via Twitter in a fit of absolute madness. I couldn't rest until I finished them all.

They range from K to M and feature Wash/Taylor primarily, with guest appearances from troll!Jim and one focussing on Taylor/Wash/Taylor. Additionally, a couple feature my OC BAMF child, Bethany.

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><p><strong>Tea<strong>

When he first takes the chance to root around in her cupboards when she's in the shower he's equal parts delighted and confused to find an old style tea service, clearly well loved; by the time she's out and dressed he has the perfect cup brewing, though her display of pleasure at this fact almost lets the tea get cold.

**Cup**

She gets used to him teasing her pretty quickly (he's always been a tactile man, drove her crazy in the past before she got used to it) but when he cups her ass in the middle of the marketplace she doesn't think it's an overreaction to put him on his own in front of the entire colony.

**Gum**

He watches her jaw move as she tests out the closest equivalent to gum that Malcolm has managed to come up with (her one weakness) and she looks quite impressed, at first, until her face falls and she winces, spitting it out onto the ground.

**Plex**

It's their way of skirting the rules, tiptoeing along their self-imposed line while in public – when he passes her a plex, he always strokes his finger along the side of her palm before retreating; when she leans in to look over his shoulder at something her hand always finds its way to the small of his back.

**Hard**

The two women he's ever held dear in his life differ in ways he can't even number but the one way he is particularly conscious of is thus – Ayani, for all her inner fire, was outwardly soft and pliant but Wash, Wash is hard, unyielding, fights him every step of the way and he _loves_ it.

**Fast**

When one or the other of them is just back from a mission it could be gentle, slow, reverential of the fact that they've survived once more but it never is, they don't have time for gentle, slow and reverential – instead it's fast, rough and _explosive_.

**Orgasm**

"_No_..." She groans but he doesn't let up; fingers stroke, lips tease and he grins as she rushes over the edge for a fourth time, weary body barely reacting yet her cries as loud as ever.

**Tease**

He watches her from across the marketplace and curses, loudly, loud enough for Guz to query what's wrong and for him to have to come up with a reasonable-sounding lie for why he hates the science team that found bananas on their latest mission.

**Taunt**

He found out long ago that the way to get her to push herself harder was to taunt her, tease her, suggest that she wasn't capable of handling that extra mile, that extra lap of the obstacle course, that extra set of crunches – he didn't think it would backfire as spectacularly as it does when he claims she can't beat Shannon at poker and he has to break up a bar fight in Boylan's.

**Release**

He knows he should let her go, that she's waiting on him to make a move she doesn't truly believe he ever will, and when one of the latest pilgrims starts sniffing around her door he really should give her up but he refuses – she's his and he will make her so before the interloper can even draw the breath to ask her out.

**Friend**

Nothing warms his war-hardened old heart than seeing his wife and his medic sitting out on the deck in the late summer sun, laughing themselves sick as they share the bottle of wine he'd brought Wash for her birthday.

**Race**

He is certain that the worst words to ever leave his lieutenant's lips, in any situation (good, _very_ good, downright terrifying...) are the ones she says now as she grins at him, standing by the gate. "Race you!"

**Hug **

It's a terrible way to confirm the suspicions of the colony but she's here, she's _alive_ and he's drawing her into his arms before she can even do anything more than smile, holding her tighter than he's ever held anyone in his life before.

**Hair**

He's grown to love her signature ponytail, understands its ease and practicality, but there's still nothing better than seeing her hair spread out over his pillows as he thrusts into her, or hanging loose around her face as she takes him into her mouth, or, best of all, tousled as she wanders into the kitchen the morning after the night before.

**Tear**

He feels the rip rather than hears it, but from the way she stills beneath him she's well aware of it too; he looks up at her face to see her scowling at him as he peels the torn underwear from her body – he'd promised not to damage any more too.

**Rings**

They argue about it for weeks before she finally relents (he laughs at her stubbornness because he's really sure they've switched their usual viewpoints with this issue) and admits it would be both safer and more discreet to wear their wedding bands on their tags.

**Explode**

She's never run faster in her life than the time they spot an IED a few feet ahead of the patrol, keeps motoring on until she feels a pressure at her side forcing her down behind an abandoned shack and looks deeply into the eyes of her CO as the device explodes, showering them with debris she barely even notices.

**Music**

The club is dark, the music loud, the beer good, the company better and Wash finally lets go of that final shred of control to give herself over to the pounding bass; when she feels a pair of arms snake around her waist her first instinct is to struggle until she recognises the hands crossed low on her stomach and smiles instead.

**Candles**

"Couldn't find enough candles for the top, Wash, so one will have to do." Jim says with a cheeky grin, quickly wiped off when Wash extinguishes the flame, plucks the candle out and shoves her birthday cake in his face, before apologising to a completely unfazed Maddy for destroying her hard work.

**Plants**

Nathaniel teases her for it but it doesn't stop her, she still keeps her windowsills full of plants, welcomes gifts of flowers from the local children (and, sure, Shannon when he's feeling repentant) because having things that are alive in her quarters helps her remember to remain so herself.

**Lust**

It's just lust, that's all it is, it's just lust, that's all it is; the words become like a mantra to her in the early days of joining Nathaniel's unit and become louder and angrier once she meets his wife but eventually she has to concede, to correct them – it's not just lust, that's not all it is.

**Dust **

They're discovered in the most mundane way possible – when Shannon stops by the Commander's house and brandishes a dust covered finger at them both, informing them that her quarters could really do with a clean if they're going to try and uphold the illusion that she still lives there.

**Pastry**

There's something horribly domestic about him watching her cook that she straight up adores – especially when he reaches around her and sneaks a piece of the pastry off-cut and she tuts at him, wanting to indulge in the same way but knowing Elisabeth would only find out and give her a lecture on the effects of uncooked egg on a growing foetus.

**Meds**

Wash, indignity of indignities, suffers from hayfever and agrees to undergo the trial of Malcolm's new treatment instead of some of the younger members of the colony – when she proceeds to jump Taylor in the middle of the market the doctor has to admit that maybe he's miscalculated, _just_ a little bit.

**Instrument**

It's perfectly safe, she assures him, wielding the metal contraption with far too much calm and composure; she teases him by "accidentally" turning it on and seeing him blanch in response before pointing out that he can't really have expected anyone to put a vibrator on their 'must pack' list.

**Laughter**

He never used to hear it very often, back in the days before Terra Nova, but sitting in his office and hearing the mixed giggles of his wife and his daughter during storytime, he now counts it Wash's laughter as one of his favourite sounds in the world.

**Files**

She imagines life was much easier in the time of paper and pens and cardboard files – the sound of datapads hitting the floor when shoved off a surface by hands desperately grasping for purchase against unforgiving thrusts wasn't half as quiet as they needed it to be.

**Shovel **

She supposes she should be helping – there's still only a very few of them in Terra Nova and the vegetable beds aren't going to dig themselves – but she can't help but watch the play of muscles in her commanding officer's back and arms as he digs in the hot noon sun, for as long as it takes him to notice.

**Sugar**

"You like coffee with your sugar, Shannon?" Wash asks and the man looks up to find the Lieutenant and Commander watching him with amusement as they sip without even flinching at what he knows to be coffee strong enough to strip paint – this makes _him_ flinch and they laugh in perfect unison.

**Sweet**

He's unbearably sweet to her from the very beginning, bringing her flowers to her desk and trying to hold her hand when they pass in the street – eventually Nathaniel has to take little Sam Marcos aside and explain gently that she's already taken.

**Candy Apples**

The harvest festival is one of his favourite nights of the year, if only for the fact that when he drags Wash up to his office and kisses her while pressing her against the wall, her mouth always tastes like warm sugar and apples.

**Festival**

The disappointment of the entire colony is palpable when she refuses his hand to dance but she's soon made to regret it when Elisabeth spirits Nathaniel away and Shannon grabs her hand instead to drag her into the crowd – being up close and personal with him is punishment enough until she sees Nathaniel pull Elisabeth close as they both laugh, easy and carefree; she could have had that.

**Slow**

The blood flow from the wound is slow and even but it's enough to scare the shit out of her as she fumbles through her pack for her needle and thread all the while talking to Taylor, keeping him conscious, not able to hide a laugh when he dares her to beat his previous highest stitch count.

**Languid**

She could kiss him forever (he's a _hell_ of a kisser) and has categorised and ranked her favourite types of Nathaniel Taylor kisses during particularly boring missions – her favourite is the slow, languid, unhurried Sunday morning kisses, when they have nowhere to be and no-one to please but each other.

**No Pressure**

"No strenuous activity! And **no**pressure on the wound." Elisabeth had warned – though she might as well have been speaking in Japanese for all Nathaniel appeared to hear her, hoisting Wash up into his arms the moment they were through the door and striding through to the bedroom.

**Kisses**

Alicia had never seen anything more adorable than the look of disgust on Bethany's face when she admitted that yes, Daddy did kiss her, and often.

**Snuggle**

If you'd asked her ten years ago if snuggling would make her list of favourite activities Wash would have laughed in your face – if you'd then gone on to suggest that she might frequently do so with Commander Nathaniel Taylor, well... then you might have got a fist to the face for your troubles.

**Teddy Bears **

She came out of the bathroom one day to eerily silent quarters and carefully padded into her bedroom, only to find a small teddy bear sitting up against her pillows, with a tag around its neck reading 'For comfort when Taylor's not around. Happy Birthday, Wash' – if the thing weren't so damn cute it would have collided with Shannon's head the next time he dared to sneak into her quarters.

**Hooks**

She still wasn't sure she was terrible fond of fishing, despite liking the meals they could create out of the fruits of their labour, but seeing Nathaniel so relaxed on a regular basis (and with his arms exposed in the shirt he favoured, too) was worth the inconvenience.

**Silk**

The material feels almost sinfully good against her skin as she slips it over her head and allows herself one moment of preening in front of the mirror before sauntering out into the living area... only to find Nathaniel fast asleep, collapsed back against the sofa.

**Rope**

She's never been more glad that she had the foresight to gather up the offcuts of rope from the construction of central command as she is in this moment, grinning to herself as she loops the harsh length around the sleeping Nathaniel's wrists, fastening him to the headboard and then settling down to wait for him to wake.

**Chains**

The weight of the metal chain is heavy around her stomach as Nathaniel fastens her to the chair before taking a seat in front of her, horror in his eyes – they both know this is necessary, she picked up the infection that's turning colonists into sedative-resistant psychopaths for 24 hours and could go under the influence at any moment but it doesn't stop her heart breaking when she realises he will have to live with the coming memories forever while she will be blessed with no recall at all.

**Feet**

"I said _three_ feet forward!" He called when she stumbled into the bog, stickiness working its way up her legs as he hurried towards her to pull her out – once she was free she would have no qualms about informing him that no, he didn't, he said **four** and the next time he blindfolded her for a walk through the jungle he better get his damn words right.

**Sauce**

She invited him to taste the sauce almost without thinking, holding out the spoon to him as she checked the plex recipe to make sure she hadn't missed anything; she looked around at the sensation of warmth on the inside of her wrist and saw his finger leaving a streak of sauce on her skin before it was quickly covered by his lips.

**Tongues**

She gasps as a tongue flicks over her right nipple in tandem to the one at her left breast, the dual sensation still a shock after the number of times they'd done this now. She looks down to see two sets of blue eyes on hers and grins wickedly at her men, fingers combing through their hair as their own hands roam her skin.

**Cooking**

She doesn't let him cook, for good reason, so when he tries to surprise her with a special meal and it's not a disaster she's instantly suspicious – until, that is, she sees him conversing with Skye in the marketplace the next day and pieces it all together.

**Laundry**

Doing her laundry used to be one of the least exciting parts of Alicia Washington's week but now, seated on top of the vibrating washer as Nathaniel's hands skim over her body, she thinks she can see the benefits.

**Bed**

She should find it less surprising than she does that they make it to a bed more often than not (they're both getting older, less adventurous) but when she sits down and mentally tots up their odd lovemaking locations versus their time in a bed, she still finds herself rather shocked by the outcome.

**Dish**

She's drying the plates from breakfast when he wanders out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips; the sight sends a bolt of arousal through her so unexpectedly that she drops the plate and he stops as it shatters on the floor, sending her a wicked grin over his shoulder.

**Moan**

She lets out what she thinks is a little moan when she first takes a bite of Maddy's apple pie, but from the uncomfortable way Mark and Jim are watching her and the amusement in the eyes of Elisabeth and Nathaniel, perhaps she wasn't quite as restrained as she thought.

**Scarf**

She's shivering on her watch duty when she feels a warmth surround her neck and she looks down to find a hand-knitted scarf tied carefully around her – Taylor smiles when she does so and tells her that Ayani made them for all the boys, but was especially proud of this one.

**Cold**

She knows men are prone to exaggeration of illnesses but she really thought Nathaniel Taylor was above such trifles, yet with the way he's groaning into his pillows complaining of aches and pains worse than if he'd been shot, it's all she can do to stop from rolling her eyes and leaving him to it - it's just a damn cold.

**Hold**

The first time the Sixers come to the gates and he tells everyone to hold their fire she wants to rail at him, tell him off for being so stupid because there is no way this won't come back and bite them in the backside – it's just a matter of _when_.

**Dear**

The first time he accidentally calls her by a pet name in front of Shannon the entire room freezes; she chances a look at the younger man and sees his mouth twitching with the effort of holding back laughter and her eyes fall shut in defeat, certain that this one will run and run and run...

**Safe**

It's a cliché, (horrid, awful) something she would usually avoid ever thinking in her life but at this point in time it is shockingly true – she never feels safer than when she's in Nathaniel Taylor's arms.

**Silence**

He's never been one for silence – give him the noise of a battlefield over the quiet contemplation of a hospital bay any day – but tonight, lying in the dark with his new wife beside him, listening to her deep and evening breathing in the quiet of their bedroom, he thinks he could get used to it once more.

**Noise**

The sirens are deafening as she runs down the steps of central command to investigate the source of the noise and when she finds them emanating from the new security device they put on the door to the Eye she sighs – Shannon has locked himself inside again.

**Alone**

She isn't certain of much in her life, never really has been, but she knows one thing for sure and that is that she would never survive on her own with him, just as he would never survive without her – she hopes that they never have to find out how right she is.

**Always**

He doesn't deal in forevers, it's not the military way... and yet... he still can't shift the thought that he'd deal in them for her.

**Fruit**

She bites into the fruit with abandon and chuckles when it's softer than she was expecting and a line of juice runs down her chin; he leans forward and catches it with his tongue, before bringing his lips to hers and sharing the taste.

**Midnight**

They watch the clock together this New Year's Eve; tucked away in his quarters (and hidden from the rest of the colony as a result) they can count the final seconds down in silence before sharing a sweet kiss at midnight, to celebrate the coming of the next year and all the challenges it may bring.

**Dawn**

Everyone knows not to disturb them as they move to lead the dawn patrol, several paces ahead of the rest of the squad as they are every morning – once a new recruit had not been paying attention, had wandered close enough to hear their conversation and had returned a changed man.

**Love **

Love is not a word they use very often but that doesn't mean they don't feel it just as powerfully as couples who do, because it's there in every 'Be careful' or 'Look after yourself' or 'I need you to stitch me up' that passes their lips.

**Flare**

He'd swear she puts the world to shame with her beauty when he pushes her over the edge, her cries and expressions of ecstasy burning brighter than any solar flare.

**Taut**

The muscles of her stomach, exposed by her cut-off tank top, pull tight as she draws her arm back, lines the arrow up with the target and releases, but he couldn't tell you whether she made the shot, let alone how good it was – he never got past the cut-off tank.

**Shred**

The Slasher tail cuts through his skin like tissue paper and he falls to the ground where he stood, bleeding out onto the jungle floor as she empties an entire magazine into the bastard creature before she even considers tending to him (he would never forgive her if she'd handled it any other way).

**Handle**

Mark pauses, hand resting on the handle of Wash's front door as his military instincts kick in; he's trying to employ his supposedly super-sensitive hearing to work out what just caught his ear when the sound repeats, louder, clearly a moan of pleasure this time as it's followed up by a familiar male chuckle – Mark doesn't hang around any longer.

**Snap **

Shannon, on his braver days, has commented that all Wash would have to do would be snap her fingers and he'd go running – the one time she does do it, completely innocently, and he looks up like an eager puppy, of _course_ Shannon's there to see it happen.


	3. WashxTaylor and TaylorxWashxTaylor

**A/N:** Some more fills from the LJ terranovafanfic comm. Each one has its own header this time. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Sour  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Friendship  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 291  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Wash/Taylor – Sour

Her face scrunches up in the... the word that springs to mind is 'cutest' but he's far beyond daring to use such a _sweet_ term in relation to his medic so he goes for 'amusing'... way possible as she bites down into the lime, grinning at Caffrey across the table separating them. They've been going for a good hour now, shots of tequila a forfeit in a game he can't follow the rules of – and shouldn't, considering he's supposed to be working.

The sound of their laughter is the most distracting thing in the world – not heard often enough, _never_ heard often enough – and so he abandons all pretence of working in the end, just watching his unit enjoy their evening out of the heat of battle.

Eventually Davis notices him watching and beckons him over, concern over his actions eased by the amount of alcohol. "Come join us, Commander."

Wash grins and nods, her mood and movements lighter than he's seen them for a while and suddenly his feet are moving in the direction of the table. He eases himself into the seat to Wash's right and looks down at the assorted cards.

"Gonna explain the rules, Wash?"

She laughs, catching her tongue with her teeth when she grins cheekily at him. "Where's the fun in that?"

He loses, more often than he thinks he strictly _should_, but hell if he isn't having fun. And the first time he bites into the lime he curses, trying not to spit the piece of fruit out. "Damn... Where the hell did you get these?"

Wash just laughs once more, delighted, and he's willing to bet his face was just as amusing as hers was, if for completely different reasons.

* * *

><p><strong>Title:<strong> Boxers  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13 for suggestiveness  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 249  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Wash/Taylor – Boxers

She wanders out of the bedroom, still half asleep, having pulled on the first things she could lay her hands to when she reached blearily into their drawers a few minutes previously.

She smells the coffee and it calls to her like a siren, the smell alone helping her feel more awake. She runs her hands through tangled hair as she rounds the corner to the main living area and sees Nathaniel leaning against the counter, watching the dark liquid drip through into the pot. At least he hasn't tried to make breakfast, which means he's not been awake much longer than her.

He's also just wearing the pair of fatigues she enjoyed removing from him last night, so that's a bonus.

He turns (even though she's sure she didn't make a sound) and smiles at her before turning back to the coffee. Then he goes very still and turns back around, much slower, to look at her with dark, wide, eyes.

"Wash?"

She shifts. "Yes?"

"You're wearing my boxers."

She looks down at herself and can't help the slow smile that forms. "So I am."

He advances on her, quick strides across the room to stand a hair's breadth away from her. "Do you have any idea what you do to me woman?"

She grins, snaking her arms around his neck and jumping to wrap her legs around his waist. He groans at the contact of her and her resulting triumphant grin. "Oh, I think I can guess."

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Sin  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Taylor/Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 403  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Taylor/Wash/Taylor – Sin

The people of the colony aren't idiots and the three of them could certainly work on being more discreet – Wash knows that it's pretty much public knowledge that she's in a relationship with the two highest ranking members of the security forces.

It lends her an almost mythical quality among the women of Terra Nova, earning her whispered conversations and looks of awe whenever she passes by a group of them. The men avoid her like the plague and she can't help but laugh every time one shoots her an appreciative glance until they look at her face and realise who they've been ogling – they look so terrified of retribution that she often toys with the idea of pulling out her comm and summoning one of "her men" to put the guy to rights.

She's in the market one day when Leah Marcos wanders up to her and tugs at her sleeve to gain her attention. She bends to crouch next to the young girl and smiles. "Yes Leah?"

"Mrs Anderson says you're living in sin." She says innocently.

Alicia's eyes widen (to almost comic proportions, she expects). Out of the mouths of babes and all that... "Does she now?"

Leah nods. "What does that mean?"

Alicia grins at her. "It means that Mrs Anderson needs to keep her nose out of other people's business."

Leah brightens immediately. "I heard Doctor Shannon saying the same thing last week. I'll go tell Mrs Anderson that now."

Alicia just about manages to catch the girl's arm before she flees the scene, her heart hammering in her chest. "No, Leah, that's our little secret okay? No need to tell anyone about it."

"Okay! See you later Lieutenant Washington!" Leah heads over towards the school this time, earlier purpose apparently already forgotten.

She stands and pays for her breakfast, turning to find Miles waiting by central command with a curious expression. She walks over to join him.

"Everything okay?" He asks, looking between her and the young girl now playing with her friends.

Alicia grins. "Apparently I'm living in sin."

Miles apparently takes her words as more of an invitation than a simple statement of fact and reaches an arm around to pull her tight against him, pressing his lips to hers. She grins, running her tongue along his lower lip before breaking his hold and stepping backwards.

"Sounds like fun." He drawls.

She laughs. "Oh, it _is_."


	4. WxT and TxWxT and SkyexCarter

**Title:** Purchase  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 665  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Wash/Taylor – Holster and Leather (Twofer!)

At the end of the day, it's only a piece of leather. A few strips of animal skin from 85 million years in the future. It shouldn't affect her this much.

It's soft to the touch, well-worn, well-loved. She knows as much from the times she's helped him into it; the innocent moments of easing him into its confines when he was still recovering from an injury, to the... less innocent ones where she used it to tug him closer to her when their lips met.

Nathaniel finds her sitting at the counter in the kitchen of his quarters, a month or so after they retook the colony. (And she, how did Elisabeth put it so poetically? Rose like a phoenix from the ashes. A phoenix with a few missing feathers and a massive dent to its pride, but she supposes the analogy works.) He walks up behind her and encircles her with his arms silently, resting his chin on the top of her head.

They stay there quietly, just enjoying each other's presence and the freedom they now have to do so. It took them a while to get back to where they'd been before – seeing eyes so like the ones you love can be soothing at your time of death, but when you then _don't die_, they only serve to remind you of the moment you thought you _would_– but they managed it eventually. Now, they were closer than ever. (Sickeningly so, Jim says. Regularly. Such a shame he seems to unfortunately walk in on them with regularity as well.)

Nathaniel looks down to see her threading the leather straps of his empty holster through her fingers and she can feel the confused quirk of his lips against the back of her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She says quietly. "Good memories."

He smiles properly this time, arms tightening around her. "Can't argue with that."

She feels his grip change and prepares herself for him turning her, spinning her on the top of the stool so she now faces him. "Come back to bed, Wash."

She smiles when she sees his bare chest, lets the holster sit on her lap and runs her hands up over his heated skin. She catches his eye and leans forward to press a kiss to his sternum, tongue flicking out to taste. "Why?"

"Believe it or not, I only meant to _sleep_."

She grins against his skin and shakes her head a little. "No, I don't believe that."

"Well, it's not true now." He grumbles, reaching out to thread a hand with one of hers. "Come on." He says, pulling a little.

She picks up the holster and hops down from the stool, trailing after him. It's only once they reach the bed that he realises she still has it with her and he raises an eyebrow in askance. "Put it on?" She asks.

He complies without asking why, looking glad he did when her breath rushes from her body at the sight of him and her eyes darken dramatically. "Wash?"

"You look..." She groans, wrapping a hand around the strap that crosses his chest. "I love this thing." She mutters, her other hand moving up and over the strap on his shoulder.

He laughs. "I can see that. How long?"

Her eyes meet his and she manages a small smile. "A _long _time."

"Is that so?" He asks, walking her backwards to the bed. "Why?"

She shrugs one shoulder, lowering herself to the bed and pulling him with her. "Purchase." She says seriously, but it's broken with a laugh when he settles over her and looks entirely too pleased with himself. "You're never going to let me forget this are you?"

He pretends to consider it for just a moment. "No, I don't think so."

She winds her hands tighter in the leather, wraps her legs around his hips and gasps when she feels him ready against her through their limited clothing. "_So_ worth it."

* * *

><p><strong>Title:<strong> Cut  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Skye/Carter  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 271  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Skye/Carter - Cut

He curses heavily and she spins around from the table, heart beating horribly fast in her chest. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing princess, just cut myself." He says, looking down at the vegetables and knife accusingly.

He puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks and Skye has to fight her every instinct not to moan at the image he creates. He doesn't miss the way her gaze lingers on him, however, and grins around the digit in his mouth. "Blood do it for you?"

Skye rolls her eyes and turns away from him. "No, I just like it when you shut the hell up."

"You don't fool me, sweetheart." He says, voice now much closer than before. "Beneath that good little girl exterior there's a wicked woman waiting to claw her way out."

He offers his thumb up to her mouth and she looks down to see blood beading along a small cut on the side. She finds it oddly fascinating as the red liquid gathers and can't help the way her tongue sneaks out to wet her lips.

She hears Carter's breath catch and looks up to see his surprise – he didn't expect her to react in any other way than disgust. She smiles sweetly at him, holding his gaze as she leans forward to envelope his thumb in her mouth and suck, just a little.

He growls and scoops her up into his arms, carrying her through to the bedroom.

"_Dinner_." She protests, though it's weak and he knows it.

"Can wait. You think I'm not _fully_ exploring this side of you, you've got another thing coming princess."

* * *

><p><strong>Title:<strong> Stroke  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Taylor/Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 456  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Taylor/Wash/Taylor - Stroke

She watches as Miles cuts through the water slowly, rhythmic strokes carrying him from one side of the pond to the other effortlessly. His arms break the surface and she's close enough to see the water clinging to his skin, close enough to want to lean over the edge of the bank and lick it off of him.

Instead she remains reclined on the warm rocks surrounding the pool, the heat of the stone a comfort against her back as she lets the sun's rays beat down on her skin. She feels more relaxed than she has in a long time and is just about to allow herself to fall into a light doze when she feels a pressure on her ankle. She isn't quick enough to react when that pressure grows and before she knows it a hand is dragging her into the water.

She splutters after resurfaces, wiping wet hair out of her face. The water isn't deep, only coming up to her waist at this part of the pond and she stands with her hands on her hips, scowling at the laughing face of Miles.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You looked hot."

She scowls at the double meaning of his words and swims away from him, deciding to make the most of the water now she's in it. The slight coolness is soothing against her scraped back and she wants to think she'll make Miles suffer for that, but in reality she'll just rope him into rubbing some cream into her skin later, which will work out better for the both of them in the end.

She hears a splashing to her right, the opposite side to Miles, and turns to find Nathaniel slipping into the water and swimming over to join her. "Hey." She says softly when he reaches her and kisses her gently. "Didn't think you'd make it."

"Guz had a lot of questions." He explains with a small roll of his eyes, then looks over at his brother. "Looking after her?"

She doesn't turn to Miles but hears the sincerity in his response. "Always."

She wants to keep her head, she does. She wants to use the time to relax, have a swim, catch some sun, chat with the men she loves. But Nathaniel is standing in front of her, chest deep in water, small beads of liquid all over his chest and she's done for, leaning forward to run her tongue along his skin and catch the drops as they start to fall.

It ends up with her sandwiched between them, each of her hands busy as theirs roam over and under her bikini and, she muses, is a hell of a lot cleaner in the end.

* * *

><p><strong>Title:<strong> Stargazing  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Friendship  
><strong>Rated:<strong> G  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 459  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Wash/Taylor – Stargazing

"Wash." She hears from beside her. She looks up from the fire to see her watch duty companion/commanding officer with his head craned back to look at the sky.

"Yes sir?" She asks quietly, voice purposely low so that they don't wake the rest of the unit.

"Look up." He says, still without looking at her.

Her forehead creases in confusion but she does as he asks. When she does so she gasps so loudly that Taylor actually chuckles.

The sky is... It's darker and yet brighter than she's ever seen before. The moon is nearly new, so its light doesn't spoil the acres and acres of stars she can now see against the pitch black sky. She has never seen it like this before, the pollution back in the US for her entire life put paid to that. But here in the middle of this war-ravaged country they still have open plains, unspoilt views of this perfect, perfect sight.

Taylor leans into her and extends his arm to point at one of the constellations. "Orion. My favourite." He says.

"The Hunter." She says quietly, one side of her mouth rising up. "Figures."

He turns to her and smiles. "You done this before?"

She nods, leaning back on her hands to allow her to observe with less of an ache to her neck. "My father was interested in astronomy. He used to take my brothers and I out to the fields behind our house every month. They didn't really care but I found it fascinating."

"What's your favourite?"

"Pegasus." She says. "Looks like Fenway Park."

He looks at her with pleasure once more – she doesn't think they've ever spoken about her past like this before. "I didn't know you liked baseball."

She shakes her head. "My dad again. But he was adamant that it wasn't designed to look like a mythical horse, just a baseball park in Boston."

"How does that work?" He asks.

She looks around for where she expects to find the constellation and smiles when she sights it, big and bold in the sky. "See the diamond shape over there?" She asks, leaning over him to point to his right. "Those are the bases. You can see the pitcher, batter and catcher all in a line. And then just below the batter you see those two smaller stars? That's the coach arguing with the umpire."

Taylor laughs in delight as she sits back. "I like that. Might have to change my mind."

"No, you should keep Orion, sir. It fits."

Their conversation is broken by the arrival of Jones and Anderson to take the next watch. "I think I will, Wash. We should do this again."

Wash smiles, standing alongside him. "I'd like that, sir."


	5. TaylorxWashxTaylor

**Title:** Nathaniel  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Taylor/Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Angst (sorta)  
><strong>Rated:<strong> R/NC-17  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 198  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for TaylorWash/Taylor – Nathaniel

It was, she supposes, inevitable. Twice as many men is, after all, twice as many names to remember. To keep straight in one's head. To reckon on not getting mixed up when pleasure is coursing through you and fingertips are digging into your hips with bruising force and lips are sucking hard on your collarbone as you break–.

"Oh god, _yes_, Nathaniel!" She cries, head thrown back with pleasure as one particularly harsh thrust brings her over the edge.

The motion of hips against hers stops immediately but she's too high to notice at first; only once she's come down does she notice that the hands on her hips are now controlling instead of pleasantly guiding, the lips at her collarbone noticeably absent. She opens her eyes to see Miles (_oh god, **Miles**_) staring down at her, the blue eyes that normally mask their feelings so well now showing her naked hurt.

She opens her mouth to apologise but he just shakes his head, rolls his hips punishingly hard against her own until he erupts with a shout, throwing her name into the empty room as a taunt, a reminder that for him there is only her.

**Title:** Four  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Taylor/Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> R  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 223  
><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Fill for TaylorWash/Taylor – Four

If you had asked Alicia Washington what her favourite number was before coming to Terra Nova, she would have struggled to give a solid answer.

Three, maybe. The number of older, over-protective, brothers she had.

Sixteen, perhaps. The number of her first military unit.

Five. The number of Nathaniel Taylor's.

Thirteen, the year of her birth.

Seven. The strange number that seemed to crop up in the strangest places – her serial number, her first boyfriend's birthday, her grandparent's street address.

But now she knows. Now she is certain of it, right down to her soul.

Four.

Four arms. Four legs.

Four hands, to tease and taunt her with feather-light touches; to make her reach and crest the wave of an orgasm; to make her fall apart time and time and time again and never, _ever_, become predictable.

Four eyes, to watch as she adores them both; to see how she reacts to each exploratory touch; to stare into when being held tightly by strong arms.

Four lungs, to gasp in air as she rides each of one of them to the point of ecstasy; to fuel hoarse shouts of completion from mouths while her own is otherwise occupied; to provide the cooling bursts of air that pass over tongue-laved areas of her skin.

Yes. Four is her very favourite number.

**Title:** Bite  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Taylor/Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> R  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 352  
><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Fill for TaylorWash/Taylor – Bite

The marks on her skin as she reviews her body in the mirror should be cause for concern. She looks like she's gone ten rounds with a Sixer rather than two glorious hours with the Taylors.

There are lines of dark bruises across her stomach, running parallel to her ribs. She thinks that she can identify which set of lips left them despite their irregular shape, their mottled colouration.

On her shoulder she finds a deeper bite, runs her fingers over the mark and tries not to shudder at the memory of Nathaniel's teeth digging into her skin as he filled her over and over and over. She can feel the indentations still there and smiles.

Her other hand moves over her hip, down to the place where it joins her thigh. There is a particularly vivid mark there, left by Miles. He had sucked until it hurt; the sharp remembrance of pain brings a moan to her lips as her fingers press down hard.

She shouldn't be surprised the three of them use pain for pleasure. She shouldn't be aroused by the sight of their claiming of her on her skin, she should fight the urge to submit to _anyone_.

She is, at least, allowed to be pleased that they have the sense to leave her unharmed where it will be obvious in public.

Sometimes she isn't as careful.

Right now she knows if she lifted the sleeve of Nathaniel's t-shirt just an inch higher there would be a deep purple mark on his right bicep, the place her lips latched on while they were both filling her, taking her higher and higher _and higher_until she didn't know which way was up. He, at least, has the sense to hide it.

Miles has no such qualms. The bite mark on his left shoulder is proudly displayed by his tank, shining like a beacon to intrigued eyes and gossipy mouths.

She shouldn't be vain enough to enjoy the fact that it is, essentially, a mark of her ownership of him, a clear message to the women of the colony.

She is.

**Title:** Honey  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Taylor/Wash/Taylor  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> R  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 372  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for TaylorWash/Taylor – Honey

The first she knows of the success of the bee-keeping project proposed by Skye Tate is the feeling of something sticky and warm slowly being drizzled along the exposed skin of her abdomen.

The tongue that follows its path is delightfully warm against her chilled skin - how long they've had the covers stripped off of her is beyond her comprehension but she's cold enough for it to have been a while. Perhaps this was the point.

She keeps her eyes closed (they know she's awake, she knows they know, it's a game they've played before) and feels honey pool on the palm of the hand she has laying up on the pillow beside her head. Lips quickly follow, a tongue darting out to gather up the liquid and she can't hold back a moan as her nerve endings fire.

"About time, sleeping beauty." Miles says and she grins. "We've got big plans for you."

She opens her eyes to see him pouring thick liquid from a jar so it pools in her navel, watches as it spills over the top and is stopped from reaching the bed by mouths on each side of her torso. Miles claims the rest of the honey as Nathaniel moves up to slowly pour some on her breasts.

His tongue continues to lap at her skin long after she's clean and she can't help the hand that comes to the back of his head to hold him to her. His eyes flick up to hers and she tugs gently, opening her mouth invitingly.

He grins, brings his jar to her mouth and tips a small amount in, allowing her a second to coat her tongue with the substance before claiming her mouth with his own.

Miles hoists up her legs as Nathaniel kisses her, setting a small amount of honey at her knees so that it'll run down her thighs to gather in the juncture of hip and thigh. It spills for the first time, neither man particularly interested in keeping her clean now and she groans, tearing her mouth away from Nathaniel.

"I just changed the sheets!" She grouses and the men laugh even as they look at her like she's insane.


	6. SkyexCarter and MarkxMaddy

**Title:**Tattoo  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Skye/Carter  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 257  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Skye/Carter - Tattoo

Princess."

Skye arched into the fingertips running along her sides, pausing at the strip of skin just under her bra. "Hmm?"

"What's this?"

"It's a bra, Carter. Thought you were familiar with those."

She smiled when he tutted, the sound so unlike him. His fingers drummed at a spot high on her ribcage. "No, _this_."

"It's a tattoo." She said very slowly, as if explaining to a child.

"Weren't you, like, thirteen when you came here? How did you even get this?"

"Fifteen! How old do you think I _am_?" She scowled, even as he grinned wolfishly at her, signalling his lack of seriousness.

"Old enough." He replied, hand straying up to cup her breast through the lace of her bra, before travelling back down to her side once more. "But _far_ too good for something like this."

"You think you know me so well..." She retorted, hooking her leg around his hip to hold him to her.

"Clearly I don't, so tell me – where did you get this?"

"Tasha wanted to try it out one day. I was drunk. Horrible combination, but I still kind of like it."

Carter traced his fingers over the small cluster of stars, the lines distinct and shapes well-formed – if she hadn't had said, he wouldn't have know that this was the work of an amateur. He leant forward to put his mouth over the ink and suck gently at the skin.

"Me too, princess."

**Title:** CPR  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Skye/Carter  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Angst/Romance  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 413  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Skye/Carter - CPR

She can do this. She can do this, she has to, she can do this.

As she presses rhythmically against his chest to the beat of a song he taught her long ago, this is her mantra. She can, she can, she can.

She has to.

He lies beneath her, terrifyingly still, blood pooling on the skin of his stomach and flowing against her clasped hands as she continues to push. The Slasher that got him lies dead a few feet beyond them, thanks to a piece of quick thinking and a lucky shot on her part. Her comm devices lies abandoned to the other side of Carter, the light blinking on it to signify its active link.

"How you doing Skye?" Lieutenant Washington's voice comes, the words forced out as the vehicle she's in hits a particularly hard bump.

"He's not... he's still... unconscious." She huffs out, still pumping hard, able to continue if she believes he's just sleeping.

"Keep going, Skye. Just like I know he taught you." Wash's voice sounds strained with the consoling words, as if she doesn't quite believe it'll be enough – the lessons of an EMT from the twenty-second century to a scared and disbelieving young woman not likely to stick very well.

Skye continues to pump and looks at his face for the first time, not able to stop the scared whimper escaping. "Come on Carter. Come _on_ you son of a bitch. You deserve better than dying at the hands of a damn dinosaur." She says, finding her anger, letting it fuel her. "You leave me and I swear to god I'll never forgive you."

Two more pumps of her hand and he splutters, drawing in a gasping breath as he instinctively tries to sit up. She forces his shoulders down. "Stay still. Lieutenant Washington and Doctor Shannon are on their way."

He nods weakly, lifting a hand to cover one of her own. "I'd never leave you." He says and his sincerity brings a smile to her face.

She laughs, tears prickling her eyes as the Rhino pulls up and the two women leap out, rushing over to them. The Lieutenant pulls Skye away as Doctor Shannon begins to work.

"You okay?" The older woman asks her.

Skye nods, smiling up at the older woman. "I am now."

Wash smiles, squeezing her shoulder. "Nice job, Skye. We'll make a medic of you yet."

**Title:** Innocent/Hickey  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Skye/Carter and Mark/Maddy  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 394  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fill for Mark/Maddy - Innocent and Skye/Carter - Hickey

"Skye?"

She hears her name spoken quietly from beside her and looks up to see Maddy hovering next to her. "Yes Maddy?"

The younger girl shifts awkwardly. "Uh, you... you should check your neckline." She says quickly, looking back down at the stall.

Skye glances down to see that her top has fallen to one side, revealing a dark bruise at the curve of her breast. She scowls at the offending mark and tugs her top back into place. "Thank you Maddy."

"Oh it's no problem. Don't mention it. Just didn't want you to get stared at or anything." She grins. "People here can be a bit judgemental."

Skye laughs, the words particularly true for her. Ever since Carter and the rest of the defecting Sixers rejoined the colony after the Phoenix Group left they've been greeted with nothing but suspicion – as has she, a result of her dealings with Lucas. To then throw herself into a relationship with Carter was probably not her wisest idea, but she can ignore the whisperings of gossips if he continues to help her through her inner turmoil.

"You know, I made up a little powder that covers things like that right up." Maddy continues conversationally, either unaware of Skye's discomfort or unwilling to let either of them linger on it. "I could let you have some? Or tell you how to make it maybe."

Skye turns to the younger girl with a sly smile. "And why do you need that?"

"Sometimes Mark gets a little carried away and my Dad is _so_ ridiculous about everything that I needed a way to hide it and sometimes I should really _really_ think before I speak..." Maddy winces, her mouth having run away with her again.

Sky laughs properly this time, hardly believing she's having this conversation with _Maddy_ of all people. Perhaps she was wrong about the girl. "And here I thought you were all innocent Maddy! With your Mr Reynolds' and Miss Shannon's and your _courting_." She teases.

Maddy flushes, but she's smiling too. "I _am_. It's Mark that's the problem."

"Suuuure." Skye grins. "How about I come over tonight and we can talk about this some more?"

"Only if you promise to tell me about Carter?" Maddy asks. "He's so... intriguing."

Skye chuckles, nudging the girl with her shoulder. "Hey! Eyes back in your head, Shannon."


	7. WashxTaylor

**Title:** Peek  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Nathaniel Taylor/Alicia Washington  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>554

**Summary:** It's been over a hundred days without human contact. That's his excuse.

It's been over a hundred days without human contact. That's his excuse. It's a pretty poor one, considering for the past few days he's taking the liberty of devouring Wash with his eyes whenever she's not looking, but it's an excuse none the less.

It's completely irrational, he knows, but ever since she walked through the portal to find him waiting and hugged him he's been in a low level state of arousal. She barely lingered, conscious of their company, but it was enough contact to send him into a tailspin of remembrance whenever he sees her. Which, considering how few of them there are now, is often.

The pair of them have set off on foot to do a spot of recon, to determine how far their zone of safety extends and where would be best to set up their permanent camp while they await the first of the supplies. He watches her carefully as she takes point (he really should be doing that, but the chance to ogle her from behind was too good to pass up) and spots a tree with a good perch a few feet off the ground to allow her a higher vantage point.

She sets down her pack and weapon, shrugs off her jacket to reveal a tank underneath; his pulse quickens at the sight of her exposed arms alone and it's this that makes him realise he has it _bad_for her and has for years. She reaches to grab onto a branch to haul herself up and her tank rides up, exposing the skin of her lower back. For as often as he's seen her arms, her back is a rarer sight to him and he curses the traitorous stirring in his pants.

It's almost comical how fast he crosses to her, silently sheds his pack and reaches for her before she can hoist herself up, tugging her back into his waiting body. Her feet struggle for purchase on the uneven ground, leaving her leaning heavily against him for support.

"Sir?" She questions and damn her, she's amused. Not surprised. Just amused.

He just grunts in reply, nosing the strap of her tank to one side so he can press a kiss to her shoulder.

"Wondered how long it was going to take you." She laughs, turning in his arms. She grabs the sides of his head and pulls his lips to meet hers, swallowing his grateful moan with her eager mouth.

He pushes her back into the tree – turns out it's going to be useful after all, even if not in the way Wash intended – hands exploring all the skin his lips can't yet reach, not yet willing to give up her mouth after such a long time wanting it.

"Aren't you glad Guz had patrol duty?" She teases, hands busy with his belt. "Don't think he'd be quite so receptive to your advances."

He has to make the choice between further discourse and action, knowing his mind in this state would only be capable of maintaining one to any degree. So he allows his lips to draw to hers into silence once more, right up until the moment she breaks around him and tears them away to let out the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

**Title:** Throw in the Towel  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Nathaniel Taylor/Alicia Washington  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humour  
><strong>Rated:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>739

**Summary:** She turns with a scowl, ready to make a polite but forceful suggestion that whoever is there leave her alone. What she sees makes the scowl die on her face, the words catch in her throat.

She chooses to train at night sometimes, pretends that it's an active decision on her part rather than a way of hiding the fact that sleep won't come.

It's quieter too. She's always alone, always free to concentrate on her exercise, her choice of equipment her own. She's winding her hands with strapping to end her session with taking on the punching bag, to relieve her frustration, to excise her recently building demons (of which, admittedly, there are fewer than ever) when she hears movement behind her.

She turns with a scowl, ready to make a polite but forceful suggestion that whoever is there leave her alone. What she sees makes the scowl die on her face, the words catch in her throat.

Taylor. Towel sitting low on his hips, upper body completely exposed and, God, still wet. Rivulets of water chasing each other down the planes of his taut, tanned skin.

She's staring, she knows she is, but he looks just as surprised to see her which allows her to quietly shut her mouth and stand impassively in front of him.

"Wash." He greets uncertainly. "Didn't think anyone else would be here at this time of night."

"Likewise, sir." She manages, suddenly aware of how close he is, how exposed she is in her training gear and how his eyes are very much not on her face anymore. She clears her throat and they snap back up to meet her displeased gaze with a unabashed smile.

"Don't suppose we can pretend this never happened?" He asks, crossing his arms across his chest.

She rolls her eyes, tugging the remaining strapping tight around her right hand. "Why not, it's what you always do."

"Lieutenant..." He starts, there's a warning in his tone and it riles her even more.

"Don't. Don't, please. Just..." She sighs, annoyed at losing her words so easily around him. She looks up, expecting to see him angry but finds his expression utterly different. Mischievous, almost. "You son of a bitch." She growls, surprise and, okay, excitement making her less concerned over propriety. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Long enough." He says simply, like this is nothing, like she shouldn't be shocked.

And she isn't, not really. It's just a little puzzling to suddenly have everything you've even wanted presented to you in one towel-wrapped package when you had absolutely no idea to expect it.

"I'm not entirely sure what to say, sir."

He makes the decision for her, crossing the distance between them like it's nothing, grabbing her hips and pulling her into his body. Her hands fly to his shoulders, the bindings catching against wet skin and giving her a firm hold as his lips find hers, finally, _finally _find hers.

He's not gentle with her and she responds in kind, years of pent-up emotion finding their release in the way his hands grip at and roam her body, his teeth nip at her lips and his hips press suggestively into hers. Somewhere in the back of her mind she is dimly aware that she's all sweaty while he is fresh out of the shower and she pulls away once his hands slide lower, under the waistband of her sweatpants, arms catching on the sticky skin of her abdomen.

"Sir." She says, biting back a moan as his lips descend her neck, her hands coming down to rest on his lower back. "_Sir_."

He pulls back at her insistence and fixes her with a curiously amused glance. "Wash?"

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I'd hate to undo all the work you put into getting clean." She grins, laughing when he gives her an '_is that all?_' look.

"I think we can fix that, Lieutenant." He says, walking backwards from her, towards the shower room.

He gets three steps before he realises he's now without his towel, the offending object hanging suggestively from one of Wash's hands. Her eyes, despite not raking over his body (nothing she hasn't seen before, she is his medic, after all) turn dark, lustful and very, very amused. "Now who's at a disadvantage?" He retorts.

She smirks, slinking up to him and hooking the towel around his neck, pulling the two ends together to tug him with her into the showers. "I think we can fix that, Commander."

**Title:** Release  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Nathaniel Taylor/Alicia Washington  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Drama/Romance  
><strong>Rated:<strong> R  
><strong>Word Count:<strong>1395

**Summary:**To remove the ability to gain that release and relegate it to a nearly impossible footnote on their daily task list is not advisable, even as it is necessary.

It's been a hard month.

They've been preparing for the arrival of the Eighth Pilgrimage at the same time as a monstrous virus has taken over the colony, the inhabitants of which seem to have a ridiculously patchy immunity to. Taylor is fine, Wash is fine. Immune, safe. Guz is not, he gets it _bad_ and is out of action for weeks.

Due to there being no one else trained enough to take command of the colony in the absence of all three of them, Taylor and Wash have been alternating shifts, alternating taking control of one of the most stressful times the colony has ever seen. When one sleeps, the other is awake and vice versa. It'd be hell on a friendship.

It's even more dangerous to a sex life.

They're not shy about their needs, never have been, they're both highly charged people who need constant activity to keep their minds occupied and frequent release to stop themselves from going insane. To remove the ability to gain that release and relegate it to a nearly impossible footnote on their daily task list is not advisable, even as it is necessary.

Every now and again, between Wash rushing out of their shared quarters and Taylor stumbling in in an exhausted stupor they meet in the middle. In the shower, in the kitchen, whenever they (often quite literally) run into each other. But it's never particularly satisfying, not being able to linger over each other in the way they normally can, each using the other as a tool for release rather than an emotional connection.

It reaches its peak around week four.

Guz is back on light duty, mostly desk work, making him perfect for taking command but not so fantastic for greeting the next set of pilgrims. So Wash goes alone, brings them back for their introduction to the great Commander Taylor, waits for them to clear to their new homes and then goes to her own. Ready to collapse into bed and not think for at least four hours.

When she pushes open the door to the housing unit her stomach grumbles and she realises it's been far too long since she last ate something. Kicking off her boots she opens the door of the refrigerator to grab something, anything, to eat and finds it totally empty. They've both been eating on the go, not bothering to keep a stock of food at home. Of course. With a whimper she shuts the door and rests her head against it and this is how Taylor finds only moments later.

"Wash?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

She stands, fixing him with a glare. "What's wrong? I am _exhausted_, hungry, dead on my feet and there is no food in this damn unit. That's what's wrong."

Taylor scowls. "When exactly was I supposed to go grocery shopping?"

"I'm not blaming you!"

"It sounded like it." He grumbles, stalking around the central island and grabbing a glass to get some water.

"Well maybe that's just your guilty conscience!"

He gulps down an entire glass before turning to her with a frown. "You could have gone shopping."

"Oh _really_! Could I? When _exactly _would I have done that? Before my trip to the portal? During my meeting with Malcolm about a vaccination program? While I tidied up after your damn abandoned clothing from last night?"

"After a thirteen hour shift I can't say cleanliness was top of my to-do list!"

"Why are you snapping at me about this?"

"Why are you snapping at _me_?"

Wash groans, rubbing a hand over her eyes wearily. "Never mind. I can't deal with you like this." She says, stalking off towards the bedroom.

"Right, because you're just _charming _right now." He throws after her but she doesn't stop until she's in the next room. The temptation to slam the door is great but she's not a child, despite all evidence to the contrary.

When she heads back into the main room intending to take a quick shower before sleeping away her tension she hears water running from the bathroom already and spies another trail of discarded clothing leading up to it. She lets out a noise halfway between a groan and scream, kicks her way through the material and storms into the bathroom.

"Will you _ever _be able to clean up after yourself?" She shouts to be heard over the pounding water.

He doesn't turn to her, just continues rubbing the suds out of his hair as if she hasn't even spoken.

"Nathaniel..." She growls and this gets his attention, informs him that her frustration is quickly turning to rage.

She isn't sure what she's expecting him to do, but reaching out of the shower and dragging her in, fully clothed, is certainly not it.

She struggles as he starts to strip off her now-sodden clothing, hitting him in the chest and shoulders with all the force of a child, her energy reserves totally spent. He doesn't even react, throwing material over his shoulder until she is as naked as he, fuming, hands on her hips as she regards him coolly.

"What was that?"

"Got you naked, Wash. I'm not going to complain."

She narrows her eyes. "We are not solving this argument with sex."

"It normally works."

She punches his arm again and this time he winces, rubbing the afflicted area. "I am very angry with you." She says, quiet rage still bubbling under the surface.

"How angry?" Taylor responds, bending to grip her thighs and lift her, pressing her into the wall as her legs naturally fall around his waist.

"Very." She says, fast losing the ability to verbalise her thoughts at the feel of his length pressed against her.

"Elaborate." He demands, shifting his hips and thrusting inside her in one quick motion.

"Seething." She grips his shoulders hard, nails digging in.

"More."

Her nails drag down his back, leaving behind long red weals. In response he bites hard on the curve of her breast, earning a groan. "Infuriated."

He thrusts twice more, short sharp jabs of his hips. "More."

She throws her head back against the tiles as his lips find her nipple and suck, before teeth bite down. "Enraged."

He hums, switching to the other breast and repeating the process. Her thighs tighten around him. "More." He mouths against her skin.

She shouts as his fingers find her clit, bringing one hand up to cup the back of his neck while the other scratches hard lines over the small of his back. "_Incensed_." She purrs into his ear, the feel of her hot breath on his skin urging him on.

He doesn't ask again, instead focussing on building them both to a release that promises to be more satisfying than they've had in weeks. Petty arguments are left aside as he pounds into her and she whispers encouragement and curses into his ear, her mental filter abandoning her completely in response to his actions.

They reach the peak and tumble over it together, Wash with a scream and Taylor with a growl. The fatigue of the previous month catches up with them both and together they slide to the floor of the shower in an exhausted heap. Wash smacks the controls blindly until the water turns off and they stay in a boneless stupor until the chill of the air becomes too much to bear.

"We need to talk about this." Taylor says as he helps her up and wraps a towel around her tenderly. "I can't stand it when we fight, Alicia, you know that."

Wash nods mutely in response, winding her fingers with his and leading him from the room. "We will, I promise. We have time, now. But god help me if you stop me from getting some sleep I will never forgive you."

He chuckles as he watches her throw herself onto the bed, still wet, knowing she'll grouse about the damp sheets when they awake. He shuts the door, crawls into bed behind her and as he joins her in sleep makes plans for a way of waking her, intending to remove those thoughts before they can even form.


End file.
